


His Way, My Way, Our Way

by scarletkestrel



Category: One Piece
Genre: And also helps, Arguments, Canon-Typical Violence, Confused Sanji, Cryptically, Enemies to Something, M/M, Robin eavesdrops, Sanji is always confused, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25699144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletkestrel/pseuds/scarletkestrel
Summary: When Zoro does something unexpected in the middle of a fight, will it be the reason they stop talking for good or will they find a way to work it out between themselves?
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 12
Kudos: 223
Collections: Set Sail One Piece Mid Year Exchange 2020





	His Way, My Way, Our Way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fantasytigeress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasytigeress/gifts).



> A gift for optigeress for the 2020 Set Sail Exchange

The enemy pirates weren’t anything particularly special, but Sanji was annoyed about their timing. He’d been in the middle of taking stock of the food reserves, something he took very seriously, and this fight was going to make him lose his place. Luffy had gone after the enemy captain and most of their crew had stayed on the Sunny to repel invaders. He and Zoro were on the main deck of the opposing ship. There weren’t any real tough contenders, but there sure were a lot of them. 

He watched Zoro carve his way through the enemy lines, not even bothering with his third sword. It was like an effortless dance as he weaved through the enemies’ weapons and blocked every strike. Sanji had been looking forward to coming back after two years and finally showing the marimo who was the best, but in usual form, Zoro had kept up with him perfectly. He radiated power. Sanji would never admit that he liked watching Zoro fight. He couldn’t help it. He was a fighter. He had to respect a master in the craft.

He lost sight of Zoro in the crowd and sighed as another pirate ran at him. He casually twisted to cave in the man’s skull with his shoe heel. His heart was still back in the pantry counting bags of rice and doing the math with Nami’s estimations of time to the next island. He always over-packed when they restocked, but it was still a source of anxiety every time they started getting a little low. 

He wasn’t even focusing on the fight anymore. Which is why a distant _pop_ didn’t catch his attention at all. Until suddenly, he was being forced back a step and a different body was occupying the space he’d just been standing in. He caught a glimpse of green hair and smooth, sweaty skin.

Rude asshole, why was he in his space? “Zoro! What the hell!” Sanji yelled, annoyed at having been pushed aside. Weren’t there pirates to fight over where Zoro had been? Zoro grunted and turned, too tight in the close space. They were only a few inches apart. Sanji tried to step back, but Zoro grabbed his shoulder. When Sanji met his gaze, Zoro looked serious and dark.

“I messed up, cook. Sorry about this.” 

Sanji opened his mouth to ask what Zoro was sorry about, when the hand on his shoulder moved to the back of his neck and hauled him across the short space between them. Zoro’s lips met his and Sanji’s brain fizzled to a complete stop. Wha-? The kiss was soft, but insistent. Pushing gently, but not forcing. Sanji was dimly aware that he should be kicking the shit out of that idiot for a stunt like this, but he was frozen by the feel of the solid hand cradling his neck and the slow movement of the lips on his. 

But then he became aware of something warm and wet soaking into the front of his shirt. Zoro broke the kiss and Sanji looked down. A perfectly round hole stood out on the front of Zoro’s torso and was leaking blood at a truly frightening rate. It had already soaked through Sanji’s shirt and was puddling on the ground under their feet. Zoro’s eyes were still closed from the kiss as his knees gave out from under him and he collapsed onto the deck.

Panic rising up like a tidal wave, Sanji looked around frantically. Over Zoro’s head, a sniper was balanced in the opponent’s crows nest, pointing a massive rifle at them. At him. 

Murderous rage washed over him, but Zoro was still in front of him, newly perforated. He had no doubt that the marimo would keep fighting until he was literally dead if he was left alone. But the problem was taken out of his hands. In that moment, Luffy’s conquerors' Haki rolled across the deck of the ship. The sniper in his perch, and all the men still around them, fell unconscious. Would’ve been helpful about a minute ago. Timing was really not on Sanji’s side today.

His head was spinning with adrenaline, anger, and confusion, but he had to pack it away. Zoro needed to get to a doctor, and quickly. Or those words were gonna be the last thing Sanji was ever gonna hear from him.

 _Sorry about this._ Sanji scooped the swordsman up into his arms. Oh, he had no idea. If Zoro woke up, Sanji was gonna make him sorry. When. When he woke up.

__________________________________________________________________________

Sanji had worked his way through four cigarettes in as many hours. He wasn’t even really smoking them anymore, just chewing them down to a pulp and then starting over with a new one. Zoro was out of surgery and Chopper announced that he would be fine, but needed some rest so no one could see him for a while. Sanji had gone through their whole stock of food so many times he could list it alphabetically, categorically, or by amount. At this point he would have heaved an entire bag of rice overboard if it meant he could have something productive and distracting to do. 

He heard the fridge open in the galley and, fearing a raid by Luffy, burst out of the storeroom already raging. Instead, Zoro stood, pouring a drink into a mug.

“No alcohol after surgery asshole, you know the fucking rules,” Sanji sanpped, barely resisting kicking the drink out of his hands. Last time he’d made Zoro tear stitches, he thought Chopper was going to cook him for dinner. 

Zoro rolled his eyes and tilted the mug so Sanji could see the clear liquid inside. “It’s water, cook. Doctor’s orders.” Sanji’s anger fizzled slightly as his embarrassment took over. And then he remembered that he’d been pissed at Zoro in the first place and it came back with a vengeance.

He crossed his arms. “You want to explain what the hell that was earlier?” He asked tightly. He sounded like Zeff used to after Sanji got into a fight with a customer and broke something. He uncrossed his arms, trying to feel less like an annoyed parent. 

Zoro shrugged him off, “It was nothing. Just a graze, Chopper said.” Sanji had been listening at the door so he _knew_ that wasn’t true. Chopper’s exact words had been ‘grazed your lung and would have killed you if it had been one inch higher’. 

“Grazes don’t make holes, idiot.”

Zoro’s hand went to pull his haramaki higher, but it wasn’t there. It had avoided a hole, but was horribly blood stained. Instead, bandages wound around his torso in its place. 

Zoro rolled his eyes, “Just forget it, idiot. It’s a fight. People get hurt.”

“Yeah, but it should have been me who got hurt. People get hurt in fights when they’re being stupid and not paying attention.”

“You saying you’re stupid?”

“Don’t change the fucking subject. Yeah, my head wasn’t in the game and I should have learned my lesson for it. Why’d you take the hit?”

Zoro looked at him and Sanji couldn’t for the life of him figure out what that expression meant.

“You’re my nakama,” Zoro said simply.

Sanji waited for more explanation, but there didn’t seem to be any forthcoming. Zoro was gonna leave in a second. If he had the guts to ask his next question, it had to be now.

“And, that other thing? What was that?” Sanji asked.

It was vague and he barely forced out even that much, but Zoro obviously knew what he meant because he immediately colored slightly and looked away. Oh Christ. Sanji had half convinced himself that what had happened was an elaborate fever dream brought on by the trauma of watching Zoro get shot. He never imagined that Zoro would be… blushing of all things. And currently staring down into his mug of water like he could scry for an answer to get him out of this conversation. 

“It was nothing. Just forget about it.”

“If it’s nothing, why are you blushing?” Man, he just couldn’t control himself today. Zoro was gonna skin him for that.

Sure enough, Zoro looked fairly murderous. But he also looked blushy. Even more so than he had a moment ago. “Shut the hell up. I am not blushing. I don’t blush,” Zoro snapped, blushing distinctly. 

Sanji almost grinned. It was so un-Zoro-like. The idiot he knew only vaguely expressed even the most obvious emotions. Never anything that could even be remotely considered soft. Maybe this was an evil clone. Sanji felt the urge to put his hand on Zoro’s cheek to see if it was hot. And just to make sure he was real and not another elaborate figment of his imagination.

No. Wait. That wasn’t right. He did _not_ want to touch Zoro’s cheek. That would be super weird. And this had to be real because if Sanji was imagining it, he wouldn't have imagined something like this. This conversation was not going how it was supposed to.

“Whatever, you’re not blushing. You always look like a tan tomato. Now tell me what the hell that was,” Sanji insisted.

Zoro looked away again and started to mutter something.

“Stop mumbling, idiot. I can’t hear a word you’re saying.” Sanji stepped closer so he could actually make out what Zoro was trying to say.

Zoro steeled himself, the line of his jaw outlining for a second as he tensed up. Then he looked Sanji in the eye and even though he was still a good few steps away, Sanji suddenly felt too close. There wasn’t nearly enough air in this tiny galley.

“Wouldn’t you want to die with no regrets?”

Sanji’s breath caught for a second. 

“I thought it hit me higher,” Zoro went on, “I couldn’t breathe and I thought it had taken out my lung.” Made sense, Chopper had said he was real close to that. “Figured I’d take advantage of my last 30 seconds. Can’t exactly hold things against a dead man.”

Sanji supposed that made a little sense. Probably, if he was dying, he wouldn’t be that picky about a last kiss either. There were definitely worse ways to die.

“But I didn’t die, which is apparently so awkward it might not even be worth it. So let’s just drop it, yeah? It didn’t happen, we’re just rivals.”

Sanji was… offended? Which didn’t make a lot of sense because he agreed with pretty much everything Zoro had just said. But he was definitely pissed.

“So you just had some weird whim? Too scared to die alone so you just had to close your eyes and pretend I was someone else?” Sanji demanded. Man, his mouth was just really doing whatever the hell it wanted. Much like Zoro’s earlier, apparently.

“Yeah, cook, that’s it,” Zoro said sarcastically, “with the blood loss, you look just like Nami and I couldn’t tell the fucking difference.”

“Then stop passing out in my business.”

“Great idea. Next time, I’ll ask them to shoot me when I’m a little further away from you.”

“Maybe next time I’ll save them the trouble.”

Something closed off in Zoro’s expression and all the heat was gone from his anger. “Do whatever you want, cook.”

“Don’t give me that shit. You’re the one who started this whole problem! This is your fault.” Sanji’s rage spiked white hot as soon as Zoro packed his away.

“I said I was sorry already. I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Well maybe I want you to stay the hell away from me!”

“It’s a small ship, asshole. I’m trying my best.”

“Well try harder. I’m sick of your fucking face.”

“Whatever. It’s not news that you hate me.”

“Yeah, so get it through that thick fucking skull of yours. If you weren’t all messed up, I’d kick it through to you myself.”

“My apologies for being a broken punching bag then.” With that, Zoro turned to go, leaving Sanji seething behind him. In the doorway, he stopped, one hand on the knob.

He sighed, head almost leaning against the wood of the jam. “It was gonna hit your hand. The bullet. I could see the path. It would have shattered every bone in your hand."

And then he was gone. The door slammed behind him and left an aching silence behind it. Sanji’s rage had been wiped clean and in its place was a sick tightness wrapping around his stomach. Without consciously deciding to, he sank down to the floor. He was wiped out. He leaned back against the cabinets and fighed out a cigarette. He managed to get it into his mouth, but his jittery hands couldn’t work the wheel of his lighter. Over and over it snapped and spit, but wouldn't catch.

Shit. Fucking perfect.

He realized he was cradling his left hand. The hand that the bullet would have destroyed. Shit. He’d messed up.

The door to the galley opened up quietly, and a pair of heels clicked in. “Cook? Are you in here?” Robin’s gentle voice called.

Sanji summoned all his energy and affixed what he hoped was an acceptable smile onto his face.

“Yes, my love! I’m here,” he said, swinging to his feet, “just looking for my good soup pot.”

“I believe it is already on the stove,” she said, pointing over his shoulder. Sure enough, there it was.

“Ha! Robin is so clever!” he fawned, “Well, I’m sure you’d like to have coffee in peace. I’ll leave you be. Still some time before I have to start dinner.” He started to scurry for the door, but she stopped him.

“Why don’t you have a coffee with me?” She offered.

Oh man, a coffee with Robin. Normally he’d be tripping over himself for that kind of opportunity, but today was not a normal day. “Thank you for the offer, but you know how it is. So many things to do! And I’m far too jittery for coffee. Please help yourself, I think there are some cookies in the cabinet.” And once again, he tried to make his escape.

“Sanji.” Robin stopped him again. She was still smiling, but her voice had gone flat and he could feel the threat under her words. “Stay and have a drink with me.” She was no longer asking.

Silently, Sanji went to put the hot water on for coffee and got out a tea bag for himself. He really was too jittery for coffee. She sat down delicately at the bar top and Sanji bustled around finding those cookies that he’d mentioned and arranging them on a plate.

“Swordsman-san seems better,” Robin said conversationally. Better than dead? That was a low bar. And then Sanji stopped. Zoro had come straight to the kitchen from medical recovery as far as he knew. And Robin had a slightly questionable habit of eavesdropping with her power.

He poured the hot water and tried to keep a straight face. “How much of that did you hear?” He asked.

She hummed lightly and waited, watching while he poured the water over the grounds for her coffee.

“You are a very good cook,” she said, apropos of nothing.

“Thank you?” He accepted, confused about the subject change.

“However,” she continued, “I think maybe you are not always a very good nakama.”

Sanji almost spilled the boiling water all over himself. He looked up at Robin, aghast. On Luffy’s crew, that was a brutal accusation.

“Have I done something to upset you? Do I not treat you as well as I should?” Sanji asked desperately. 

Robin gave him a conciliatory smile. “Don’t worry. You have always treated me incredibly kindly. However, I’m not sure that everyone is extended that same grace from you.”

He deflated, knowing what she was implying. “You think I was too harsh with Zoro.”

“The relationship between you and Zoro is very complicated. I should not presume to know the details.”

“There is no relationship! There’s nothing between us!” Sanji corrected quickly.

“I would have thought there was friendship. Trust and care at the minimum. You are nakama,” Robin argued. Twice now he’d gotten that word thrown in his face. Apparently Sanji was going to be down on his knees tonight praying for forgiveness to whatever nakama god Luffy believed in.

“We are,” he agreed tiredly. 

“I seem to remember this is not the first time that he almost died for your dream,” she reminded him. The image of Zoro standing in a clearing dripping more blood than a person should have flashed in his mind. “As you have offered to die for his,” she finished kindly. “Today should not have been all that surprising. It’s who Zoro is. He will always suffer for those he cares about.”

“You think he cares about me? We hate each other!” Sanji asked, feeling fairly scandalized at the implication. Robin looked at him the same way someone would look at a jellyfish and wonder how something had lived so long without having a brain. However, she was too polite to voice such a thought. His Robin was so kind. Her frown deepened as he swooned over her a little.

He pulled himself back together. No swooning over Robin. Still stressed over Zoro. “Still, Robin, you don’t understand. We weren’t just arguing over the injury. There was something else. Zoro crossed a line.”

Robin just looked at him thoughtfully for a minute and sipped her coffee. Eventually, she seemed to have come to a decision. “No, that’s not it,” she announced.

“Excuse me?” he asked. “I’m pretty sure I know why we were fighting.”

“No,” she insisted, “if it was simply a matter of Zoro crossing a line, you would have been angry.”

“I was angry.”

“Instead, you sounded… scared, I think.”

“I was definitely angry. Didn’t you hear me yelling?”

“I had originally just thought it was a fear of him dying for you again-”

“He didn’t die for me the first time.”

“But then I began to believe that there was something deeper at work. Something unspoken-”

“Everything was spoken. Angry things. That’s why I was yelling.”

“Only those that we love can instill that kind of fear in us-”

“He didn’t even die. There was no fear. I’m fairly certain Zoro can’t even be killed.”

“Fear of what, I couldn’t say. The unknown? Trusting someone else? Change?”

“That Chopper is finally going to actually kill me when I eventually snap and kick Zoro before his stitches are fully healed?”

Robin, who had been blissfully ignoring him throughout her musings, finally settled her gaze on him again. There was something about Robin that made her look like she always knew more about you than you did. It always made Sanji feel small and rather foolish.

“You have such a big heart Sanji. It must be lonely to not let anyone live in it with you.”

Robin was really going hard on the cryptic and cutting statements today. At least this one had at least a little bit of compliment in it. Right?

Robin took the last sip of her coffee and stood up. “I guess we will see,” she said, gesturing vaguely around the ship, “if, as you say, it’s nothing, then it’s in the past now and you and our swordsman will go back to your usual routine with no problems.”

Sanji squinted at her, “and if it’s not?” He wasn’t saying it _wasn’t_ nothing. But he wanted to know what she thought the options were.

Her smile widened. “Then you know where to find me. You’re free to try to handle it on your own, but I think you may want a helping hand.”

Which was very nice, but also kinda condescending. Also probably fair. Sanji was so confused right now he just wanted to go to sleep for a week.

Robin left the galley, leaving Sanji to stew in the miasma of _what the fuck was all that_. He was going to sleep. And when he woke up, maybe the world would make more sense. That’s right. It would put itself back together and then everything would be normal.

__________________________________________________________________________

Everything was _not_ back to normal when he woke up. This day was going terribly and there wasn’t even anybody attacking the ship or freak storms trying to kill them. It was a lovely, clear day and Sanji _hated it._

He had woken up from a very weird dream that he had (luckily) forgotten the details of almost immediately. But there were these residual afterimages and feelings. That the empty space at his side in his bunk was colder and emptier than it had been in the dream. The memory of lips pushing against his. A warm feeling that pushed him to smile.

It only made him frown more.

And Zoro was _everywhere_. Shouldn’t he be bedridden from his injury? Surely it was dangerous for him to be… walking around?

As he entered the men’s washroom, Zoro was leaving, shirtless except for fresh bandages. They no longer wound around his entire torso, but patched up the one spot just under his ribs. 

Every so often it struck him how much bigger Zoro had gotten while they’d been separated. Zoro had always been the meathead to Sanji’s lithe grace, but now there was even more meat than there used to be. And thinking that made Sanji want to scrub his brain out with bleach. But it was true.

Zoro pushed through the door and the motion rolled through his deltoids. It was such a casual thing to do, but the power inherent in every inch of Zoro’s form made it graceful and strong. Sanji felt like he’d been cursed because now when he saw the curve of Zoro’s mouth, he could feel what it tasted like. Jesus, something was wrong with him.

Zoro stopped when he saw Sanji and his features closed down. He lowered his gaze so that they weren’t looking at each other and pushed past him in the narrow hallway.

And that hurt. He was technically doing what Sanji had asked, trying to stay as far away as possible in a small ship. But Sanji had the same sinking feeling that he’d had when he talked to Robin. That maybe he’d made a big mistake. 

He got into the washroom and was met with his own face in the mirror. He looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes and he remembered that he’d spent most of the night tossing and turning, waking up from some dream or another and falling fitfully back to sleep.

He remembered Zoro pushing past him silently, not looking him in the eye and he wondered if that’s what it’s going to be from now on. A future without Zoro. Having him be there, but not. If you’d asked him days ago he would’ve flippantly told you that that sounded amazing. But the reality was more complicated. 

Zoro was a pain in the ass, sure. But he was also the best sparring partner Sanji ever had. He got lost constantly, but somehow he was always exactly where he needed to be. They fought like cats and dogs, but there was no one else Sanji trusts to have his back so completely in a fight. How many times did Zoro have to almost die for him for that message to really sink in? Zoro was brusque and usually downright rude, but he was also straightforward and perceptive when it counted. He was warm to his friends, kind to those who needed it. Steadfast in his dream and behind everyone else’s. That big laugh that only sometimes came out, full of vicious happiness for being alive when he probably shouldn’t be. Just like that kiss.

Oh fuck. Fuck, shit, and damn. Sanji was an idiot. And an asshole. And Robin deserved to have a big “I told you so”.

He didn’t have his emotions all sorted out, but he knew one thing. If Zoro never talked to him again, he was going to regret it forever.

__________________________________________________________________________

Sanji wasn’t skulking. He was just observing. Covertly. His revelation had been yesterday and in the meantime, all he’d really done was bang his head against a wall, both figuratively and literally.

He’d walked up to Zoro with the intention to say… something. Instead, he’d stood there, probably glaring, and completely frozen up. Every time he tried to speak words, his mouth just ended up muttering incomprehensibly. Eventually, looking incredibly confused and slightly concerned, Zoro had just walked away.

So talking was out. That’s okay. Communication was more than half nonberval anyway, right? He’d adapt. So that’s why he was behind these barrels. Doing not-sketchy research. He was going to make a plan and then follow through and that would be that. He’d stop feeling so guilty and Zoro would speak to him again. Easy.

_Plan 1: Language of Food_

If there was one thing Sanji knew he was good at, it was cooking. So Sanji was sure that while he couldn’t get his mouth to say “hey, sorry I was an asshole, please talk to me again and also I’m super confused about that kiss”, he could probably say it with food. 

That night for dinner, everything was perfect. He’d set the table for everyone. There was a huge sea king steak in the middle and bowls of vegetables and pastas surrounding it. But then, right in front of Zoro’s place, there was a smaller plate with three balls of onigiri and an arrangement of sushi — Zoro’s favorites.

He couldn’t think of any way the message could be clearer. As his crew filed in for dinner, Sanji was buzzing with nerves. He very carefully didn’t look at Zoro the whole meal. He knew if he looked over, he’d end up staring a hole through his head. 

So he refilled the ladies’ water cups and kept the bowls full until everyone had eaten their fill, occasionally stopping to have some himself.

At the end of the meal, after everyone had filed out, he looked across the table to Zoro’s empty seat. And in front of it, the plate of food, untouched.

Well if that was a message in response, it couldn’t be much clearer either. Shit. But Sanji wasn’t giving up. Maybe the food had just been too vague, since he made food for everyone. Or maybe the marimo just didn’t want to hear it. That was fair too. Oh well. He’d try something else. And try not to be disappointed in the meantime.

As he cleared the dishes, he ate a piece of sushi off the untouched plate. Delicious. _Shit_.

_Plan 2: Being Helpful_

Zoro was supposed to be resting after his injury, but in typical Zoro fashion, he was up and training every moment that Chopper wasn’t keeping an eye on him. 

Sanji could see the subtle signs of some of the toll it was taking on him though. His eyes were a little bit more sunken than they should be and he moved a little bit slower than he usually did. During his naps on the deck, he stirred more often and looked troubled.

Maybe Sanji could do something nice for him then. That would surely speak volumes about the fact that he hadn’t meant what he’d said. Zoro was slated for lookout duty that night, and though Chopper had tried to convince him to hand it off to someone, Zoro was insisting.

Sanji went to bed that night with a plan. He would wait until it was late and all the others were sure to be asleep and then go up to the crows nest, and claim insomnia. He’d say he’d wanted to do something for the marimo after he’d saved him and it would all be very suave and unambiguous. 

It did… not go down quite as he pictured.

Zoro was lifting weights, which wasn’t allowed, but Sanji thought it might set the wrong tone to remind him of that.

“Hey marimo, I couldn’t sleep so I’m here to take watch. Get outta here,” Sanji said as he came up through the floor.

Zoro just grunted and kept doing reps.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said get lost. I’ll watch.” Okay so it didn’t sound that nice, but Sanji was doing his best. His mouth tended to go autopilot around Zoro.

“I’m fine, cook. Go back to bed.” It was addressed to the invisible, dark horizon.

This wasn’t working.

“Idiot, you’ve got a hole in you. Get outta here and sleep.”

Zoro finally rounded on him, “You think it means I can’t do my job? Say that to my face.”

“I won’t fight you,” Sanji insisted, “I’m just here for the watch.” Turning down a fight was hard, but he was trying to be _nice_ goddamn it.

“Tch,” Zoro muttered, “now I’m not even good enough for a fight? You want the watch that badly, it’s yours. Whatever.”

And before Sanji could stand up for himself and explain himself (which he definitely would have managed, somehow), Zoro shouldered past and was gone down the ladder.

So it had been a success? Technically? Zoro was probably getting some sleep, at least. But it definitely hadn’t gone how Sanji wanted. Expressing himself was turning out to be harder than he expected.

_(Accidental) Plan 3: Compliments_

So far, his actions had not been speaking for themselves the way they should’ve been. Some combination of Zoro being thick-headed and Sanji being an idiot who couldn’t express himself was really hampering his efforts. It had been almost a week and a half and he was really starting to get sick of Robin’s pitying glances. 

Zoro was still only speaking when spoken to and avoiding Sanji as much as he could and it was driving Sanji nuts. He just wanted to spar and laugh and maybe make him dinner, but that seemed fast so he wasn’t gonna say that part. And also, maybe kiss him again? If it came up? Because Zoro was constantly shirtless and it had never really bothered him before, maybe a passing glance here or there, just for comparison’s sake, but never anything else. But now, Sanji was suffering. 

Luffy had gone overboard (again) and Zoro had (predictably) dived in after him. The heat from the nearby summer island had set the deck of the Sunny hazy and a dip in the ocean probably felt nice. Luffy came hurtling back onto the deck in a sopping pile, whining about feeling weak. 

Then Zoro pulled himself up the towline on the side of the ship and vaulted over onto the deck. He was dripping water and sweat, the moisture following the lines of his muscles. The sun shimmered off his shoulders and the planes of his face. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back so the seawater wouldn’t drip in his eyes. 

Sanji licked his suddenly very dry lips and was aware of the sweat gathering along his spine under his button-down shirt. 

“Hey,” he called out, very impulsively. This was a terrible, bad idea. But his rational brain had declared heatstroke and was no longer involved in the decision making process. “You look, uh, real good.”

Smooth Sanji. Real smooth. That was how cool people complimented each other. With lots of “uhhh”s and a vague positive statement. 

Zoro looked up at him, brow furrowed. And then he looked over his shoulder, where Nami happened to be standing. As it happened, she was currently taking off her shirt so she was just in the bikini underneath it.

Sanji’s timing _sucked_.

Zoro still looked confused, probably because that would have been the weirdest compliment Sanji had paid Nami ever, but now he also looked annoyed. Awesome. He flipped Sanji off and kept walking across the deck. 

This couldn’t get any worse.

Robin materialized at his shoulder. She must’ve seen the whole thing.

_Fantastic._

“I don’t wish to overstep,” Robin said sweetly, “but possibly a more direct approach is called for.”

“That felt pretty direct,” Sanji grumbled.

“Maybe more clearly communicated.”

“If I try to talk to him seriously, we’ll just end up having an argument.”

Robin smiled serenely. “Then have an argument. You can only ever be yourselves. Just because there’s no hatred doesn’t mean you have to change. There was never hatred in the first place.”

Cryptic, but somehow helpful. Very Robin. Alright. Nothing much to lose at this point. He’d give it a shot.

__________________________________________________________________________

_Plan 4: Have an Argument_

“Hey asshole!” She’d said start a fight, and that, Sanji _knew_ he could get right with the idiot swordsman. Sure enough, Zoro’s shoulders pulled up like hackles rising on a cat and he turned around with his teeth bared.

“What do you want, jerk?” He snapped back.

Yes! This was familiar ground! This is how they were meant to communicate. Sanji realized he was smiling because Zoro actually took a step back. He must look maniacal, shouting angrily with a mad grin.

“We need to talk. You’ve been avoiding me,” Sanji said, trying to look more serious and probably failing.

Zoro rolled his eyes, “Make up your mind, shitty cook. If I talk to you, you’re mad. If I don’t talk to you, you’re mad. Just pick one.”

“Yeah, I’ve been a real bastard,” Sanji agreed happily.

Zoro just stared at him, mouth hanging most of the way open. 

“But that’s not the point right now,” Sanji continued. Zoro’s eyes narrowed suspiciously again.

“So what is the point?”

“You’ve been ignoring me and I want it to stop.”

“You told me to ignore you.”

“Yeah, well I was wrong so knock it off.”

“What kind of logic is that? You sound like Luffy.” He did. Shit.

“Whatever, just go back to normal.”

“I’ll do whatever I want, bastard. Why should I have to talk to you again?” Zoro yelled, indignant.

And that was… fair. Sanji opened his mouth, but all the answers he had just sat on his tongue without moving. Because I don’t like it when you don’t. Because you’re my nakama. Because I’m sorry. Because you did what I asked but I missed you. Because maybe we’re both assholes, but maybe it works for us.

And because he couldn’t get any of those words to work, he stepped into Zoro’s personal space, interrupting his spluttered “Wha-”, and kissed him.

It was quick and light because Sanji was incredibly unsure of himself, and didn’t have the brazenness of a man who thought he was going to die. Whatever the consequences of this were, Sanji was going to have to live with them. But Zoro’s mouth was still warm like he remembered and Sanji liked the way the hard line of his jaw fit into the cup of his hand.

When he pulled away, Zoro looked stunned. Sanji just grinned, enjoying the moment. If Zoro wanted to roast him after this, at least he’s said his piece, somewhat anyway.

“What was that for?” Zoro asked eventually, turning brutally red again.

“Because I wanted to,” Sanji said succinctly.

“But-but you don’t even like me.” It was, apparently, a very confusing day to be Zoro.

“Fuck you, you don’t tell me what to feel,” Sanji snapped, “Besides, I, uh, was trying to say sorry and I didn’t really know how. So now we’re even.” He was blushing too now. They were both a mess.

“Was that all it was? Getting even?” It was like their conversation from that day, but in reverse.

“Well no. It’s because I wanted to. And because I tried to make you food, but you didn’t like it.”

“That was for me?? It looked so nice, I thought it was for the girls and you’d kick my ass if I tried to have any.”

“And I tried to be nice and let you sleep, but then you got offended.”

“When are you ever nice? I thought you were being condescending.”

“And eventually I tried to tell you that I like your stupid face.”

“You did what?!”

“When you pulled Luffy out yesterday, I said you looked nice.”

“That was directed at me??” Sanji wouldn’t have been surprised if Zoro’s head actually started spinning around in circles on his shoulders. He looked like someone had just told him the world was flat and the grand line was made of sunflowers.

Sanji was starting to be concerned. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked seriously, “You kissed me, right? I thought that meant something.” Oh shit, if he was wrong about all this, it was gonna be real embarrassing.

“I- No- Yes- I mean,” Zoro shook his head like a dog clearing water, “I, yeah. You’re the person I trust more than any other. You have my back and you support my dream. You’re strong and loyal. How could I possibly want anyone else?”

Sanji’s heart stopped in his chest. Everything about that was true. It felt true in the same way it did when Luffy said he was going to be the pirate king. The kind of true you could feel all the way through your bones. How did Zoro say it so easily when Sanji had been trying to say just that the whole time? And when the heck had the marimo gotten better spoken than him?

“All of that, yeah,” Sanji agreed, slightly breathlessly. “So if I support your dream,” Sanji put his hand lightly on the bandages that were still taped to Zoro’s side, “then stop trying to fucking die for mine, you shitty bastard. We’re in this together.”

“And,” Sanji looked away, trying not to blush worse, “I’d miss you.”

In a moment of deja vu, Zoro’s hand curled around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss again. And this time, Sanji wasn’t frozen, but was free to kiss back. They fit themselves together perfectly, noses bumping and lips moving slowly together. It was an argument, with a push and pull on both sides, but also an agreement. That they were always gonna fight and argue, but they would also always have each other’s backs. That there was complete trust. And under all the threats and insults, genuine affection. It was always gonna be a little nontraditional, but in the kiss was an understanding. That it was their way. And it worked for them.


End file.
